Dick Longg: Sexual Saviour of the Universe (24 page)

‘Can you help me pass these tests?’, asked Dick nervously.

‘I can’t give you a cast iron guarantee that you’ll pass’, said
Taylor
, ‘But we have methods that can greatly improve your chances’.

Taylor
left the room but returned a short time later with a small fabric bag. From this he removed some yellow and red pills, a syringe and a bottle of colourless liquid. As Dick saw the syringe carefully being filled he rolled up his shirt sleeve and tensed his forearm. After dabbing a vein with an antiseptic sponge,
Taylor
gave Dick an injection.

‘That will help to negate any truth serum’,
Taylor
said, withdrawing the needle and placing a small sticking plaster over the puncture wound. ‘Take the two yellow pills tonight and the two red ones just before the test. They are very fast acting and work in conjunction with the injection’.

‘So I’ll be able to beat the lie detector?’, Dick asked with almost a pleading look in his eye.

‘You should be all right’.

‘Should be? That’s not very reassuring’, Dick commented.

‘Whether you pass or not ultimately depends on your will power’,
Taylor
explained. ‘And I can’t influence that’. He added, ‘As long as you convince yourself that you’re absolutely and completely innocent, you should pass’.

Dick heard that ‘should’ word again and didn’t like it. He took comfort however in the fact that you couldn’t be a world-famous porn star without being able to control your climax and if anything was a measure of will power, then that was it.

‘And what about the libido test?’ Dick asked, rolling his sleeve back down.

‘We can deal with this by another method’, said
Taylor
, rummaging in his bag again and removing an elasticated headband containing various sensors that was connected to a control device by two cables. The whole contraption was hooked up to some sort of small battery pack.

‘Stand up’,
Taylor
said.

Dick obliged and
Taylor
carefully placed the headband on Dick so that it sat just above his eyes. He unravelled the wires to the controller and stood in front of Dick.

‘You know how strong my libido is?’, asked Dick. ‘Are you sure this device will be able to suppress it?’

‘Temporarily, yes. The effect should last a couple of days’.
Taylor
clicked a switch and turned a dial on the controller. ‘Now, close your eyes tight. You’ll feel a short, sharp sensation’.

Dick closed his eyes as requested.

A second later he was doubled-up in pain. No, not pain. Agony. More agony than slamming your fingers in a car door. More agony than slamming your penis in car door - although why you might have your penis in close proximity to an open car door is anyone’s guess. Dick felt like he’d been kneed in the groin, which was precisely what had just happened.
Taylor
had done it with so much force that Dick felt that his testicles had re-ascended and were now introducing themselves to his tonsils. He collapsed to the ground, alternately screaming in pain and shouting insults at
Taylor
in a falsetto. After twitching and writhing on the ground like an epileptic fish thrown on to dry land Dick managed to compose himself and state the obvious.

‘You kneed me in the fucking balls!’, he groaned to
Taylor
through watering eyes. ‘What about the device. Why didn’t you use it?!’
 

‘This?’, asked
Taylor
, crouching down and removing the electrodes from Dick’s head. ‘This doesn’t do anything’.

Dick looked confused. In a horrendous amount of pain and confused. He groaned again.

‘But I thought it would control my libido so I’d pass the test?’

‘No. That’s what the knee in your balls was for’,
Taylor
said nonchalantly. ‘The device was just to distract you so I could get a clear aim’.

Dick looked even more confused.

‘Tests have shown that the most effective way to reduce your libido for 48 hours is a good old fashioned knee in the testicles. But I couldn’t very well expect you to stand perfectly still while I did it, could I?’

Dick had to agree that he could not.
Taylor
helped Dick up to his feet and removed a small ice pack from the bag to make him more comfortable.

‘You’ll be fine’,
Taylor
told him. ‘I’m sure the bruising will subside after a few days’. Packing up his bag
Taylor
opened the door and Edward entered.

‘Edward will take you back home’. Shaking Dick’s hand
Taylor
looked Dick straight in the eyes. ‘Good luck with the lie detector’.

‘And the libido test’, Dick groaned.

‘Oh that’, said
Taylor
, ‘I made that bit up’. With that, he gave what Dick was sure was a wry smile and left the room.

Dick travelled back to his apartment in silence, the welcome ice pack resting on his lap.
Taylor
was a sly bastard, he thought. A sly fucking bastard. As per the previous arrangements, Edward dropped Dick off a few blocks from his home. The streets were deserted at this time of night. There was no one to see a man with a pained expression slowly walking along the pavements, wincing from his bruised testicles every time he took a step. No one except a lone figure waiting in the shadows opposite Elm Grove Tower West.

Dick opened the door to the lobby, glanced around into the night, and then walked in. He hobbled slowly towards the elevator that would take him to his apartment. Only when the elevator doors had closed did Benjamin decide to step out of the shadows and begin his own way home.

CHAPTER 19

The next day it was announced that all of Vera’s department would have to attend an ‘interview’ on the 28th floor. There were two main rumours flying around the department. The first was that the suspect had already been identified and apprehended and that these ‘interviews’ were just routine and no one had anything at all to worry about. The second rumour was that the suspect had not been caught and that as the employees in Dick’s department were the last to be interviewed they had a lot to worry about. There was also a third rumour, that the suspect had been caught but had then escaped by miniaturising himself to a height of just half an inch then scuttling into an air vent to safety. To be fair though, not many people believed this particular rumour. Dick was standing at the water fountain and after making sure no one was looking, popped the two red pills in his mouth and took a sip of water.

‘Nervous?’ Benjamin’s sudden appearance caused Dick to gulp in surprise, half choking on the water but swallowing the pills in the process.

‘No’, Dick answered, trying to muster as much confidence as he could manage. Of course he was nervous. In fact he couldn’t recall a time when he had been more nervous. Not even when there had been an outbreak of Herpes Simplex type 2 while filming ‘Sperms of Endearment’.

‘Why should I be nervous?’ Dick enquired, nervously.

‘No reason’, said Benjamin taking a mouthful of water himself. ‘Unless, of course, you have something to hide’.

‘Me?’ Dick gave a small, anxious laugh. ‘I hope they catch the person who owned that fountain pen and torture him. Bloody traitor!’

‘How do you know it’s a ‘him’?’ Benjamin enquired.

‘I don’t. It’s just a figure of speech’.

‘I see. Like ‘fountain pen’?’ continued Benjamin.

Dick stared at him. He had no idea what Benjamin was talking about. Benjamin noticed his expression of surprise and continued.

‘You said ‘fountain pen’’,

‘So?’, asked Dick, still confused.

‘How do you know it was a fountain pen?’

Dick was beginning to sweat and splashed some water on to his face, partly to cool him down and partly to give him time to think. ‘When they made the announcement on the loudspeaker they asked if anyone had lost a fountain pen’. Dick was certain that’s what was said.

‘Are you sure?’ Benjamin moved closer to Dick, looking him straight in the eyes. ‘I thought they just said it was a black pen’.

‘No. It was tortoiseshell’.

This was the moment when Dick realised that he had said more than he had wanted to and definitely more than he should. He’d fallen straight into that trap. He knew the announcement had mentioned a fountain pen. Benjamin had been trying to confuse him. What the announcement had failed to give was the pen’s colour. Benjamin didn’t say anything. He didn’t need to; he just walked away smiling. Dick wondered what his next course of action should be but before he could even think of a plan, let alone put it into effect, he heard his name being called.

‘Attention Jeremy Brunel, Jeremy Brunel. Will Jeremy Brunel please make his way to the 28th floor’.

The emotionless, siren-like call of the tannoy was announcing that his time was well and truly up. They were calling all employees in the department in surname alphabetical order so Dick was one of the first to be seen. With a heavy heart and aching testicles Dick ascended to the nominated floor where he was directed to a small office. He hesitated outside the room then cautiously pushed the door open. Inside, another stern-looking Party official greeted him. Actually, ‘greeted’ was the wrong word as it implies some degree of affability. All this man did was glare at Dick and indicate an uncomfortable-looking chair on the other side of a table. This table was bare except for a lamp and what looked like a large recording device which Dick assumed was the lie-detector. Oh yes, there was also a polished stainless steel tray containing a large syringe.

Dick gulped twice, then once more, and sat down in what was probably the most uncomfortable chair he had ever experienced. It was too low, too hard and the angle of the back was totally wrong. It was being used, Dick assumed, to unnerve him and had obviously been supplied by the company that manufactures seating for fast food restaurants; designed to be so uncomfortable that you would only spend ten minutes seated, thus improving customer throughput (as they say in the fast food restaurant business).

The Party official sat facing him on a far more comfortable chair and Dick immediately felt a twinge of jealousy. The official attached sensors from the lie-detector to Dick’s temples, clicked a couple of switches and adjusted a dial or two. With the recent successful trials of Jack still fresh in his mind Dick had another urge to shout out, ‘Do you know who you’re interrogating?’, but thought better of it.

Dick had two rules about confronting people. The first was never have an argument with someone with a megaphone. The other was never talk back to someone pointing a large syringe at you. This was precisely what the Party official was doing and moments later Dick received a stinging injection in his forearm. As if this wasn’t uncomfortable enough the official then switched on the extremely bright desk lamp and shone it directly into Dick’s face. Dick hoped that the lie detector could discriminate between perspiration brought on by the heat of the lamp and the sweat of guilt. The glare of the lamp’s intense white light meant that Dick could no longer see the face of his interrogator and this unnerved him even more.

Taylor
was right about the libido test. There wasn’t one. Instead Dick was asked to confirm his identity and various personal details. Throughout, the lie detector steadily hummed while a pointer scribbled its damning verdict on a slowly-rotating paper roll. Dick was answering questions about his employment history when he heard the door open. Someone else entered the room and sat down facing him; the intense light also rendering them invisible. They remained silent, seemingly there to observe the interrogation. After a few minutes they spoke. It was a female voice that took over the questioning.

‘Have you seen this pen before Mr. Brunel?’.

The woman placed a tortoiseshell fountain pen down on the table in front of him.
 
Dick looked down and rubbed the brightness from his eyes so he could see the pen.